poisoned by the moonlight
by hashire
Summary: To say she’d do anything for him would be a lie. Or, at least, it wouldn't be completely true. She would do a lot for him, but not anything. HeiHavoc, somewhat of a character study, M for mostly non explicit sex.


Standard disclaimers apply here.

Notes: (readded) I fell in love with Havoc but finished Darker than BLACK near the end of the semester, so I couldn't write. I wrote this during a fight with a close friend, when I was really upset. I worry over bits of it still, but I won't fuss with it more.

* * *

She spoke now for the sake of speaking, if only to fill the silence. Reminiscent of when she still had her powers, when she only ate to maintain her body.

She expected this, expected to be found one day. Hopping from place to place, hotel to hotel, renting small apartments occasionally. It could only last for so long.

Coming to Tokyo was a mistake. Being so close to Hell's Gate wasn't a good idea, but her travels eventually brought her here. It was almost like she was being pulled, her body metal, the city a giant magnet.

She hadn't known he was here.

She avoided most people at all costs. She became thin, her hair always in disarray, sleeping to pass the time and nothing else.

It was stupid to come here. She shouldn't have stayed for so long. She shouldn't have rented that apartment with money she didn't have.

But perhaps it was worth it, all this trouble, just to see him.

* * *

To say she'd do anything for him would be a lie. Or, at least, it wouldn't be completely true. She would do a lot for him, but not anything.

If it meant going back to the way she was before, back to the heartless person she once was, killing children as if it was nothing, drinking their blood, so be it. She would do it.

But only if he killed her before she was too far gone. It wasn't too much to ask.

* * *

His passion was a surprise. Contractors were rational. They didn't need passion to survive, so it was useless.

He was different. He'd always been different.

The sound of her fingers snapping out of place almost made her feel sick, but the pain was overwhelming. And hadn't she heard such things before? But her power hadn't involved messy deaths like some of the others. Voids. So simple.

She lapsed into darkness, her cheek stinging.

* * *

It had been over a year since she had awoken to the sound of food being prepared. She missed it. She missed Laura and her family. But she'd had to leave. Protecting them was more important to her than staying with them. Rational, though she was no longer a contractor.

Her hand hurt, but otherwise she felt fine. Hungry, now, in fact. She hadn't eaten that day, though she had been offered food when her stomach growled too loudly to be ignored. She barely felt the hunger anymore. Not eating had that effect.

When he set the food in front of her and untied her, she didn't reach for the food. Instead, she watched him. Spoke to him. Told him about things that she knew he wouldn't care about. She didn't mind. Actually having someone to talk to felt nice.

She felt like a child when he offered her the food in the spoon she could not hold. She ate it anyway, ignoring the feeling. She spoke again, things that were unimportant, but he listened.

It was all that mattered.

* * *

The sofa they were on was old, hard, uncomfortable. Things had not escalated fast; the situation was not out of her hands. She had reached to touch his face with her left hand, caressing his cheek, running her fingers over his lips.

She wondered if he was doing this to please her, to persuade her to do what he wanted. Torture had not worked, would pleasure be different? She wouldn't remember either way.

His hand slid under the thin nightgown, and she breathed heavily, close to panting. Oh, how long had it been since she felt this way? The answer was immediate: never. The few times she had been touched like this, there was nothing behind it. Perhaps there was nothing behind his touches, but she could pretend.

* * *

Creak, creak. It sounded loud in the quiet of the room. They were both panting, but the protests of the furniture dominated, covering up any noise they made.

She was hot, her body threatening to overheat soon; it wasn't used to the exertion. Her chest rose and fell, rose and fell. The nightgown rode down, her breasts revealed.

She felt naked, though she was still mostly clothed. Only he could do this to her.

She wondered how it felt on his end. Contractors didn't feel deep emotions like normal people. They were nothing but rational.

Sex wasn't rational. Was he doing this for her sake? Probably.

He hadn't disrobed anymore than she had, only pushing down his pants and settling between her open legs. He had touched her for a long time; it felt like forever. She hadn't touched him because he was out of her reach.

As usual.

* * *

What was he thinking? She could never read him. He looked impassive, calm and unchanging as usual. His face wasn't flushed at all, though there was a sheen of sweat.

His eyes were closed, and she wondered if he was thinking about someone else. Perhaps he was trying to figure out how to rationalize this? Pleasure was unneeded, sex was unneeded, except for procreation, but what contractor wanted children? The bond that usually was there wouldn't be. They wouldn't feel it, and the children would have been utterly lost.

She decided to stop thinking about it, and just feel.

* * *

Her back arched as she came, harshly, eyes shut tightly, her fingers clenching into fists. The pain in her right hand only fueled the pleasure.

It was so intense, she could have cried. Could have. She never cried. She didn't cry when she left Laura's family. She wondered if they had. Were they happy to be rid of her? They appeared to care for her, and she cared deeply for them. But did it really mean anything?

He thrust into her harshly at her peak, and she cried out. She felt him come inside her, and heard him breathe deeply through his nose, though he made no other noise. His eyes were still closed.

She could pretend that perhaps he felt the same intensity, the same depth she had felt in that moment, but even if she told herself it over and over again, she wouldn't believe it.

* * *

She told him she would help him. He had not pulled away, had actually fallen forward onto her chest. It must not have been too comfortable, she thought. She had always been thin, had never gotten the body that her peers had. Now, she was thinner and had less. But he didn't seem to mind.

She stroked his hair and sighed, his head moving with her breath. It was an easy decision. She would help him. How could she not now, after what had happened?

It didn't matter if he had done it to try and change her mind, to make her help him. She would have already, but she let him do it. She'd watched as he walked around the small table, had fallen back against the old couch, had accepted him on top of her.

Maybe she had been selfish. This wasn't something she expected. She had thought about it, late at night, after long days filled with nothing but sleep and loneliness. For it to actually happen was a surprise. But she accepted it, wanted it.

She would hold this feeling, this memory to herself, now. It was hers and hers alone. She knew it wouldn't change anything for him, but that didn't matter to her.

* * *

He didn't keep his promise. She asked him, pleaded him to kill her, but he didn't. He told her that she could have had something better. She wondered if he imagined himself involved in that future.

Her thoughts were interrupted, and she ran and ran. He held her hand, dragged her, but she couldn't keep up.

She fell to the ground, wanting to give up. It would be too late soon. She could feel it all coming back.

He seized her, forced her to look up. He told her that she didn't need to die, and she almost believed him.

* * *

Death was as painful as she expected it. But she deserved the pain after all, didn't she? She'd killed thousands of people, more than was rumored.

He tried to help her, but it was too late.

Coming to the Gate may have been a mistake, but she would have done anything for him.


End file.
